Ultimate Choice System: I Became The Richest!

The old man cleared his throat, breaking the charged atmosphere. "Alright, enough with the stares and heavy silences. Let's eat before the food gets cold," he said, his tone laced with humor as he reached for the serving spoon and started dishing food onto his plate.

Carefully, he added a selection of roasted vegetables and a perfectly cooked slice of meat to his plate. He glanced at the others, his sharp eyes twinkling with amusement. "The chefs didn't slave over this meal for us to let it go to waste just because you're all caught up in staring contests."

Caroline chuckled at his comment, reaching for the breadbasket. "He's right. Let's enjoy the food, everyone. Amelia, pass me the salad, please."

Amelia blinked as though snapping out of her thoughts. "Oh, right," she said, quickly picking up the bowl and handing it to her mother. She stole a glance at Noah as she did, her cheeks still slightly pink.

Noah, as composed as ever, picked up his fork and helped himself to a modest portion. His gaze briefly flickered to the old man. "Thank you for the meal. It smells incredible."

"It tastes even better than it smells," the old man said, his smirk revealing a hint of pride. "Though I've heard you've got quite the refined palate. Amelia's been talking up that teahouse of yours."

Amelia's face turned a deeper shade of pink. "Grandpa!" she protested, her voice a mix of embarrassment and exasperation.

"What? Can't I appreciate a young man with ambition?" he teased, though his eyes sparkled with warmth.

As the conversation lightened, plates were passed around, and the soft clinking of utensils replaced the earlier tension. Soon, the room filled with warm chatter and laughter, with the old man steering the conversation toward lighthearted topics that had everyone smiling. The meal, much like the company, was as rich and satisfying as the warmth shared around the table.

After dinner, as the warm aroma of tea filled the room, the old man leaned back in his chair, holding his cup delicately. A hearty laugh escaped his lips. "You know, Noah, I don't go a single day without drinking your tea at least twice. It's become as essential to me as water."

Noah grinned, taking a small sip of his own cup. "Well, I'm flattered, old man. Though you've just made me wonder if you're hydrating properly."

The old man raised an eyebrow, a sly smirk tugging at his lips. "Tea is water. It's just fancy water with character."

The room chuckled at the exchange, but the old man wasn't done. Setting his cup down with a deliberate motion, he straightened in his chair and pointed a slightly trembling finger at Noah. "Now that we've eaten and had our tea, it's time. Time for us to settle things properly."

Noah's eyebrows lifted slightly. "Settle what, exactly?" he asked, already guessing where this was going.

"Our rematch, of course!" the old man declared, his voice filled with mock indignation. "Last time, you only won because I'd just recovered from a long illness. You took advantage of my weakened state. Now, you won't beat me so easily."

Noah let out a low chuckle. "Ah, yes. The 'I was sick' excuse. Classic."

"It's not an excuse!" the old man shot back, leaning forward, his eyes glinting with determination. "It's a legitimate reason. You'll see the difference tonight."

The old man's hand slammed lightly on the table as he stood up. "Enough talk! To the chessboard! Let's see if your luck holds."

Noah stood as well, a confident grin spreading across his face. "Alright then, old man. But don't get mad if this turns out to be another 'unlucky' day for you."

The family laughed as the two men headed to the living room, where a finely crafted chess set awaited. The old man cracked his knuckles dramatically, while Noah calmly rolled up his sleeves.

"Prepare yourself, Noah," the old man declared, wagging a finger. "You're about to see strategy and wit like you've never seen before."

The game began with quiet intensity. The old man carefully positioned his pieces, his focus evident as he made calculated moves with the white pieces.

Across the board, Noah maintained a calm demeanor, his hand lightly resting on his chin as he observed the game unfold.

The opening saw a balanced exchange of pawns, with the old man setting up a classic Ruy-Lopez opening.

Noah responded confidently, countering with the Morphy Defense. The movements on the board were precise and deliberate, with each player silently calculating several steps ahead.

Noah casually leaned back in his chair after placing his knight, his expression serene. "Your move," he said simply.

The old man furrowed his brow, clearly immersed in thought. He advanced his bishop, forming a strong attacking position that seemed to pressure Noah's defences.

Watching the move, Noah's lips curled into a faint smile as he immediately countered, forcing the old man to retreat his knight.

Piece by piece, the game began to tip in Noah's favour, though it wasn't immediately obvious. The old man played an impressive middle game, advancing his queen aggressively and trapping one of Noah's rooks. Yet Noah didn't flinch, sacrificing the rook without hesitation to set up a series of subtle traps.

"Interesting choice," the old man muttered, moving his bishop to claim another piece. He seemed to think the game was heading in his favour, as the board leaned heavily on his aggressive strategy.

Noah nodded lightly, moving his queen into what appeared to be a neutral position. "Very interesting indeed."

As the old man continued to build his attack, he failed to notice Noah subtly manoeuvring his knights and pawns into a dangerous alignment. Just as the old man confidently pushed his queen toward a checkmate attempt, Noah's calm voice broke the silence.

"Check," he said, sliding his bishop into an unexpected position.

The old man blinked, his confident expression shifting slightly as he studied the board. His earlier attack had left his defenses exposed, but he hadn't noticed until now. He quickly moved his king, attempting to escape.

Noah's next move was swift and precise. "Checkmate."

The old man stared at the board, his eyes wide. It took him a moment to process what had just happened. "How—?" he started before trailing off, leaning closer to examine the board.

"You set up a great attack," Noah said, his tone polite yet unwavering. "But it left just enough room for me to slip through."

The old man leaned back in his chair, shaking his head with a mixture of amazement and disbelief. "You did it again," he said quietly. "You made it look like I had the upper hand, only to pull the rug out from under me in the last few moves."

Noah smiled faintly, extending his hand for a handshake. "A good game, as always."

The old man chuckled, shaking his head as he accepted the handshake. "I've played chess for decades, Noah. But you—you're something else. It's like you're two steps ahead, even when I don't see it coming."

Amelia, watching from the side, clapped her hands softly. "I don't know much about chess, but that looked incredible."

Noah glanced at her with a light smile. "It's just a game of patience and observation."

After the chess game ended and the laughter faded, Adam, who had been quietly observing from the side, straightened and approached Noah. His expression was serious, a stark contrast to the lighthearted atmosphere of the evening.

"Noah," Adam said firmly, his voice steady. "I need to speak with you for a moment. Can you come with me?"

Noah caught the weight behind his words and nodded. "Sure."

Rising from his chair, Noah followed Adam toward the balcony. The night was calm, the breeze carrying a crisp chill as they stepped outside. The city lights twinkled in the distance, providing a serene backdrop to the conversation.

Adam leaned on the railing, his gaze fixed on the horizon. After a moment of silence, he turned to Noah, his eyes sharp yet thoughtful. "Noah, I know you're not an ordinary person. Everything you've done—the way you carry yourself, the things I've heard about you—it's clear you have abilities that far exceed what most people could even imagine."

Noah remained silent, his expression unreadable.

Adam continued, his voice steady but laced with conviction. "When you saved Amelia from those kidnappers, you didn't just handle a dangerous situation. You dismantled a group of criminals who were among the most dangerous in the country. Those men weren't amateurs, Noah. They were wanted for heinous crimes, and yet, you dealt with them as if they were nothing."

Noah's gaze didn't waver, but Adam's words hung heavy in the air.

"That's why," Adam said, his tone firm, "I want to make you an offer. I know you're planning to enter the military, and I respect that. But I also know you're not someone who aims low. If you're going to do this, I believe you want to be the best of the best."n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om